A Ballad for Ms Snow
by Emma95
Summary: Snowbarry Club AU. Caitlin is the sad DJ who's saving up money for her Master education. Barry is a fresh graduate who celebrates the night with his friends. What happens when he takes a bet to seduce her? Multi-chapter. Without superpowers.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1 – Flirting with Music

In the end, the majority voted for a place called 'Starball', or so Barry thought the name was. Iris said she and Eddie had spent a great time once-the music was good.

Only Jesse Wells grimaced, but she was the exception. Julian, Wally and Patty all nodded in agreement. And as for Barry, he trusted Iris's taste. She'd host the best parties at their house.

He was determined to discard the graduation ceremony from his memory and focus on spending the evening with his friends. He wouldn't think about his dad or Iron Heights tonight, he promised to himself. Or the entire incident of that same afternoon when he visited him in jail to show him a tape of his graduation (because that was the only way his father would ever witness major events of his life).

He sighed, as they pushed the door inside. He would probably need a drink.

Plenty of drinks.

* * *

Inside the club, they met with a wall of dry-ice smoke, bodies sweating on the dance floor and colored lights following the rhythm. The speakers throbbed with Jennifer Lopez.

The air was intoxicating.

Iris pivoted, a broad smile conquering her face, her eyes beaming at Eddie. The latter sighed, tilting his head.

"Come on!" she prodded, grabbing his wrist in one swift movement and pulling him into the dancing mass.

"Yeah!" Patty pushed to the front, rolling her shoulders and hips. She turned to face them and waved with her hand for them to join. Barry laughed with her funny dancing and mimicked her movements for a while, then patted her on the back and followed Julian as he made his way through the crowd. His mood was already improving.

They settled around a stand at the back. Barry offered to go get drinks for them. Jesse scurried to join him in the last minute. She scoured the place with her eyes as they pushed toward the bar. Barry threw her a few curious glances.

"Everything alright, Jesse?" he asked her.

"Yeah," she answered, still looking around. "Just searching for my dad. He runs the place."

Barry cocked his head. "Really? That's cool," he commended.

Jesse twisted her upper lip. "Not if you have an overprotective father like mine."

"Oh." He didn't know what to say to that.

They reached the bar then. The barman, a Latino man with long brown hair, wearing an island flower-dotted shirt, nudged his chin at him.

"What can I get you?"

Barry opened his mouth to order, but the man raised a finger, interrupting him.

"Wait, let me guess," he said.

"Uhh…" Barry mumbled, squinting.

"Vodka?-No, no! Scotch!"

Barry narrowed his eyes. "How-?"

"Practice, mi amigo. Practice. And years of experience," he said as he grabbed a bottle and poured liquid in a short, wide-rimmed glass. He pushed the glass toward him.

"Some people could say I have ' _a vibe',_ " he said spreading his hands out.

Barry squinted, then blinked as a tall man emerged from the shadows behind the barman.

"He's telling you about the vibe again, isn't he?" he muttered.

The barman whirled, but so did Jesse. She took in the newcomer and huffed.

"Hello, Jesse," he greeted her.

Jesse rolled her eyes.

The barman gasped, raising a finger to point at Jesse, his eyes flickering between the two.

"She's Jesse? The Jesse?"

The taller man closed his eyes, lines of regret popping on his forehead. Jesse cocked her head in disbelief.

"Thank you, Cisco," he muttered.

Cisco leaned over the counter. "My condolences, miss. I feel your pain," he said.

A hand landed on the back of his head, jolting him out of balance. His lips pressed into a thin exasperated line.

"What have we said about manners, _Harry_?" he said through gritted teeth.

"You… call your boss Harry?" Barry asked.

"Long story," Cisco said.

"Glad you chose this place to hang out, Jesse. I promise I won't get in your way," Harry said to his daughter.

"Yeah, you'll only observe my every movement from afar. And I didn't choose it, they did," Jesse spat.

Barry sensed the palpable tension rising between father and daughter, so he decided to speed up ordering the drinks for the rest of the gang.

As they waited, Calvin Harris took over the sound. Jesse bobbed her head and Barry realized he was tapping his fingers on the counter, while holding his breath. The beat had frozen on loop, the tempo ever increasing. When it dropped, the song changed at the same time. The corner of his lip twitched upwards in surprise. He would have never expected those two songs to complement each other so gracefully.

He turned around, his eyes searching for the DJ. He spotted her on a slightly protruded stage at the right of the dance floor. She wore a set of headphones on her ears and moved her hands subtly as she adjusted the music.

There was something off about her. After a moment, Barry realized what it was. She didn't bob her head to the music like Jesse and everyone else did, or close her eyes in ecstasy, as he saw most DJs do. Instead, she kept her eyes lowered, her mouth a thin line across her face, as if she was doing laundry and not actually the coolest job in the world.

Barry's breath caught. She was… beautiful. It was as if her sadness added a layer of charm to her overall appeal. Her blond, neat hair brushed off her blue leather jacket. Shadows appeared under her eyes, giving her face all sorts of interesting angles and nooks.

Cisco then called for his attention. Barry turned his head, but not his eyes.

"Nah uh," Cisco said. Barry looked at him, his hand freezing over the drinks.

"I see where you're looking, pal. Don't even think about it," he warned him.

Barry shook his head. "Think about what?" he asked, feigning ignorance.

"Let's say that Caitlin isn't in the right place to date right now."

Barry nodded and proceeded to lift the tray with the drinks.

So that was her name, he thought as he headed back to his friends.

As soon as he arrived and put down the drinks, he heard his name.

"Barry, I was telling Julian here what a big flirt you are," Eddie said.

Julian grimaced. "I can't imagine why anyone would want to date you, Allen, to be honest. You…" he raised his palm and started counting on his fingers, "always come late to class, provide lame excuses and skip responsibilities."

His heavy British accent and derisive tone irked Barry. He was about to answer, but Eddie intervened.

"You haven't seen Barry in his A game yet, otherwise you wouldn't be talking," he defended.

Julian narrowed his eyes, studying Barry. The latter grew wary under his gaze.

"Fine," he said. "Let's place a bet."

"Guys, I don't…"

"Come on, Barry, you're good at this, show him!" Eddie insisted.

"I'll point to a girl of my choosing and if she lets you buy her a drink, then you've won. Are you up to the challenge, Allen?"

Eddie nodded in encouragement.

Barry shook his head and sighed in surrender. "Fine. Which girl?"

Julian searched around for a bit, stroking his chin with his finger.

"Her," he pointed with his head.

Barry followed his gaze, until his eyes landed on the DJ. Again, he couldn't help stare a little bit longer.

He turned to face Julian. "Uhh, the barman just warned me she's not dating material," he explained to Julian with severity. He was surprised at himself. He actually felt the need to protect this girl. Although he hadn't even met her.

"Did that sound like an excuse to you, Thawne? I think it sounded like an excuse."

Barry rolled his eyes.

Iris, who stood beside him with her arms folded across her chest, reached for his ear. "Barry, don't be a jerk," she warned him. "You can do better than seducing a woman to win a bet. Don't bother her unless your intentions for her are genuine."

Barry nodded, then raised his drink and gulped it down in one shot. He then took Julian's drink and raised it in a toast, before starting to make his way through the crowd. He fixed his hair and the hem of his black shirt, then dusted off his blue jeans, before he reached her.

She didn't notice him at first. He stepped on the stage and leaned against the side of the booth, sipping his drink – Julian had ordered a Jack and Coke, which was not so far from Barry's taste.

She kept playing her music. The song had eased into a ballad from Ed Sheeran now. Romantic couples twirled on the dance floor, holding onto each other.

From this close, he could scan her in detail. Her long legs were clad in tight black leather and heels. Her eyes were red-rimmed and black spots etched the skin underneath.

Barry hesitated. Iris was right. He should leave this girl alone. She seemed to be suffering enough. But the longer he observed her, the more curious he became about her. It was actually more than that. Like a tug to his very soul. He felt oddly connected to her.

Then his eye caught a thick book near a pile of discarded discs. He struggled to read the title. _Trans…mutant Diseases._ He frowned, but didn't think much on the issue.

He took another sip of his drink and leaned close to her ear.

"Hi," he shouted, trying to sound above the volume of the music.

She shuddered and whirled, her eyes stretching out. She lowered her headphones. Her pupils moved sideways, until they focused on him.

"Can I help you?" she asked.

"For a DJ, you look quite unhappy," Barry commented.

She frowned. "Excuse me?"

"I'm sorry, I just noticed you don't smile too much."

She shrugged, drawing her lips downwards. "There's no reason for me to smile," she said casually and looked away.

The music turned devastatingly sweet and monotone, isolating them from the world.

She didn't look at him, so his gaze drifted from her eyes to her mouth. He felt lost in the planes of her face.

He knit his eyebrows. "Why is that?" His voice came soft and quiet.

She turned abruptly, making him pull his gaze in awkwardness.

"I'm sorry, but I don't see how that's any of your business," she said, her eyes sharp and slightly vexed. She drew her attention back on her task and pushed a button with her finger. Ed Sheeran's voice caught on a vowel. Then, gradually, a beat and a different sound smoothed in. It was amazing. The crowd cheered and scattered on the dance floor once again.

Barry decided that boldness was the way with her.

"I bet _I_ can make you smile," he said.

She turned her head and frowned.

"And I bet I can mix the songs better than you," he stated, flicking his chin toward the player.

She cocked her head. "Is that so?"

He nodded and raised his glass to take a sip. He played it out as comfort, but in reality, he was stalling to think what he would say next. He didn't own the slightest clue as to how to play DJ.

Caitlin was staring at him in disbelief.

Then, he noticed her book again.

"See," he started, waving his hand as if he was giving a lecture, "music is a science of its own. You just need to mix in the right chemicals. Including fun." He said the last in a poignant tone.

It had the desired effect. Her features stretched out in exasperation. She opened her mouth, but then closed it, as if she decided he was not worth her caring. She stepped back from the booth and waved her hand. "Be my guest," she offered with a smile.

 _Crap_ , Barry thought.

Well, he'd started it. He might as well see it through.

He placed his drink on the surface and rounded the booth like a predator advancing on its prey.

"Watch and learn," he said to her. He took a disc and tossed it in the air with grace before placing it on the player.

A heavy metal sound jarred the club. Caitlin covered her ears, along with the rest of the people, and Barry wanted to as well, but he had to play it cool. He turned to her and wiggled his fingers as if he was playing electric guitar, screaming along with the singer.

Her frown smoothed out into a look of doubt.

Barry then took another disc and rolled it on his finger.

The heavy metal stopped suddenly and the speakers filled with-

 _I believe I can fly…_

Barry twirled and closed his eyes with passion, lip-syncing along and throwing his arms open like wings. When he opened his eyes, Caitlin was pressing her lips, as if to suppress a laugh.

 _I believe I can touch the sky…_

He extended an arm toward her, still singing.

Caitlin snorted and then she was breaking into laughter. She folded in half, tearing up, her cheeks reddening.

Barry struggled to keep on his play, but his gaze froze on her, his breath catching.

If her sadness was charming, her laugh was seductive. She had stolen the air right out of his lungs.

Wow, he was really the reason this girl had laughed.

She slowly rose to her height, her laugh waning out. Barry gave her an earnest look.

"Told you I could make you smile."

"Yes, by making a total ridicule out of yourself," Caitlin pointed out.

Barry shrugged. "Still counts."

Quiet spilled between them. People around the club slow-danced or serenaded to their partners. He'd made a good choice after all, he thought with satisfaction. He wrinkled his nose, closing one eye. "Can I buy you a drink?" he asked.

Caitlin stared at him, her gaze hesitant.

"I don't know-"

Barry raised his palm. "Hey, no ulterior motives here. I just saw you and thought you could use a friend"-he grimaced at his own choice of words-"oor a friendly stranger," he scurried to correct.

Caitlin smiled. Her eyes twinkled. "In that case, I wouldn't mind a drink," she said with endearment.

Barry beamed. "Great! My name is Barry Allen, by the way." He extended his hand to her.

She held it and shook it once. Her touch jazzed his heart a little.

"Caitlin Snow."

Barry smiled. "Nice to meet you, Caitlin."

It felt nice trying her name on his tongue.

Caitlin Snow… Cait.

* * *

 **A/N:** Thank you for reading! This is my first AU so I'm really eager to see what you guys thought about it. Also, next chapter will probably take some time to post as I'm currently studying. But I will speed up updates after that. I already have the storyline figured out, so it's all a matter of finding time to write it down.

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own the flash or any of the characters.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 - Secrets Revealed

Barry's head swam as he downed the third drink. The music had eased to a lazy tune. The few dancers that pirouetted on the floor didn't even follow the rhythm. The club's energy had shifted to the tables, to casual chatting and flirting and kissing.

Caitlin sat with her legs tucked underneath her—her heels lay on the floor somewhere—while he had stretched his over the sound system. She held her glass with precision and cringed each time the alcohol touched her lips.

She wasn't much of a drinker, Barry deduced.

The colored lights illuminated her eyes and her teeth—whenever she shared a smile.

At first, they chatted about his graduation and his passion for forensics science. As with all things he loved, he spoke in a frenzy. It was crazy, he thought. He'd only met her minutes ago and it was like he was trying to compress the story of his life into a short summary—scary details excluded. (Though a voice deep inside told him she wouldn't mind the scary details. She would understand.)

The truth was, he liked her reactions.

She didn't just nod and smile. No. Her eyes and mouth widened with proper shock and surprise as he told her about his hearing accident.

"No!" she said, leaning forward.

"Exactly!" Barry returned the emotion. "I mean, out of all the places I could have been when the speaker system went off, I happened to be right in front of it. I couldn't hear anything for an entire day! At least, Iris enjoyed teasing me."

She laughed and shook her head. Then, when her eyes sobered, she said: "You had reversible hearing loss."

Barry stopped over his drink. "I had what?" he asked.

"Reversible hearing loss," she repeated, blushing. When she saw his blank expression she scurried to explain: "It's a mechanism your ears use to adapt to the loud noise and protect you from real damage."

He stared at her in awe. "Wow that's so... educated of you," he remarked.

She shrugged, turning her attention to her drink. "I read," she said.

Barry nodded, though he didn't quite buy her excuse. He realized she'd never told him about her major. She had skipped the question when he asked her by turning the focus to him.

In fact, each time he tried to center the conversation on her, she shrank inwards and guarded her expression. She cut her answers short. So far, he'd only managed to learn about her friendship with Cisco—he was the one who had recommended her for the job and had also tutored her on the art of mixing music. She hadn't always been as proficient as she was now—Barry imagined her struggling with the buttons, showing extreme caution. A smile tugged on his lips.

He stared at her profile-the way her intelligent eyes caught the light, the way her hair brushed her skin and her lips balanced each other.

"You never told me what you specialize at," he commented.

She turned her face and raised her eyebrows, as if she hadn't heard him. It was kind of cute, Barry thought. She actually believed she could fool him. The innocent looks were basically his expertise. He smiled, deciding to humor her anyway.

"Your major. You never told me what you're studying," he repeated.

This time, her hesitation was visible.

"I promise I won't feel intimidated," Barry said, raising his palm.

Her eyes squeezed into a smile. Barry's gaze caught on her dimples for a moment.

"I'm a biomedical engineer and geneticist," she said. Barry shaped a silent wow with his lips, his eyes widening.

"You said you wouldn't feel intimidated," Caitlin reminded him, pointing with her finger.

Barry closed his mouth. "I'm not—I mean I'm not going to pretend I understand what that is about, but you... you are a scientist-aside from a DJ, which I-I think is-is an interesting combination," he struggled to find the right words, to not sound like an idiot and at the same time compliment her mind.

A smile pressed into her left cheek. "You are not so bad yourself, Mr. Allen. A pizza delivery guy who's secretly a CSI detective."

He accepted her praise with a nod. "Yeah, people tend to think I'm fast at delivery."

Caitlin tilted her head.

"And that sounded not how I intended it to," he scurried to add.

Caitlin laughed.

Quiet settled as if carried by a breeze. Caitlin focused on her drink and switched the song.

 _5,4,3,2,1_ … the lyrics started. The voice was sweet melancholy and inner complaint.

 _5,4,3,2,1..._

 _He holds the guuun... against my heart._

 _I close my eyes... and I'm... I'm dead._

He saw her close her eyes and bite her lip.

His eyebrows pulled together in a furrow as he watched the pain battle with her expression. It didn't take a genius to fill in the pieces. The song hymned romantic love and how it could murder you.

"What happened?" he asked quietly.

She opened her eyes and stared. Her gaze turned cold and distant.

"I... lost my fiancé," she answered, her voice firm. "We both studied at the same college until... there was an explosion nine months ago. Basically, I lost a year of my studies and the man I loved... died." Her voice dried at the last word.

Barry sat up straight and looked at her, shaking his head. "I'm so sorry," he muttered.

"Yeah, me too," she said. "So, since you asked why I don't smile too much, this blank expression feels kind of the way to go."

Barry nodded. Her words connected strangely with him. He'd made a similar pact with himself. Only different. He couldn't vindicate his father. But still, hoping felt like the only way to go. The muscles around her mouth twitched, as if she was restisting emotion.

"Hey," Barry said. Before he realized it, he was reaching out and placing his hand on her shoulder. Caitlin jumped slightly. He pulled away, curling his fingers into his palm, but still held her gaze.

"Everything is going to be okay. You will be fine," he told her. He didn't know how he'd ended up offering support to this girl—this girl he barely knew—but it was almost an automatic reaction. Somehow he knew that she could survive this and he needed to tell her.

He almost expected her to protest, to shake him off, but Caitlin's eyes stretched wide as a tiny speck of hope glimmered in the depths of her irises. She was stunning. She nodded.

Barry tried to clear his head and smiled. He decided he wouldn't leave this place if he didn't see her smile again.

"I have an idea," he started.

Caitlin squinted and leaned a little back. "What?" "Let's play a drinking game," he suggested. "We'll both describe our worst experiences of a certain type and if yours are worse than mine, you'll take a shot, or the opposite." He grinned with pride.

Caitlin's expression shrank in hesitation. "I'm not sure…"

"Oh come on. You deserve to have some fun," Barry pressed.

Caitlin's eyes opened in protest as she resisted a smile. "I have never done a drinking game!" she confessed. "I'm not even sure I will be any fun!"

One hour later…

"Worst birthday party ever!" Caitlin shouted as soon as she slammed her glass down. Cisco gave her a look, then leaned toward Barry and covered his mouth with his palm. "Who is she and what have you done with Caitlin?" he demanded.

Barry laughed and lifted his shoulders, shaking his head. "Okay, me first!" Caitlin said. "It was the year my father died. He was the only one that remembered my birthday, so that year nobody was home to celebrate. I made a cake on my own, which turned out to be salty. Much like me." She snorted and snickered.

"That sucks, but not as much as _my_ worst birthday," Barry pointed out. "I was eleven years old and I visited my father in prison for the first time, but they wouldn't let me see him, because they considered him a a threat to me, after he was accused with murdering my mother."

He frowned as soon as he uttered the words. He was sure this was something he wasn't supposed to say.

Caitlin pouted. "Fine, you win!"

Barry cheered and downed another shot.

"How about this?" he pointed a finger. "Worst pick-up line you've ever received," he suggested.

Caitlin wrinkled her nose and twisted her lips. "Hey Snow, I bet I can make you fall for me," she said, imitating a male voice.

Barry folded in half laughing.

"What did you tell them?" he wondered.

"Something about how I could freeze them to death instead. Which was pretty mean, but he deserved it." She almost looked like she was muttering to herself, which gave Barry another round of laughs.

As he straightened up, he saw Julian approach. His smile faded. Julian stopped next to him and studied Caitlin. Barry tensed.

"You were supposed to buy her one drink, Allen. Not get her wasted," Julian remarked.

It took a moment for his words to set in and create their disaster. Caitlin was too drunk to react to them. But the same didn't apply to the barman.

Barry met Cisco's grim eyes. His hands had frozen over the cocktail he was brewing. Barry opened his mouth and raised his palm in panic.

"Hey let me explain-"

"I thought I had made it clear to you that Caitlin wasn't in a place to date, much less be played with," Cisco said through tight lips.

"I didn't intend to-" Barry tried to explain.

"I think you need to leave now," Cisco cut him off. His voice stayed within civilized volumes, but somehow it sounded more threatening than direct yelling.

Barry got the message. He nodded and turned to leave.

"Thanks, Julian," he muttered as he swiped past him toward the exit. The other man had opened up his eyes, as if he'd just realized his mistake.

Too late, Barry thought, more to himself than to his colleague. He felt like the worst jerk in the world.

And he deserved it.

* * *

The next day he returned around the afternoon. The sky had opened up and was pouring on the earth, so he'd brought an umbrella with him.

He walked several times around the block, ignoring the chill of the rain, until he built up the courage to go inside.

The club worked as a pub during day time. Quiet background tones had replaced the echoing music. The air smelled of spicy perfumes and smoke. But mostly, it was dry, which was a nice change from the wet weather.

Barry shuffled toward the bar, closing his umbrella and slicking back his hair.

"Oh, you again," Cisco muttered nonchalantly once he noticed him. He was tasting a lollipop.

"Hi," Barry said breathily, pretending not to notice his attitude. "Is Caitlin here?"

Cisco pulled the lollipop out of his mouth. "She is Dr. Snow to you," he corrected him, his gaze a sharp knife.

Barry winced and waved his head. "Fine. Is Dr. Snow here?"

Just as he asked, he saw her coming from the bathroom. His heart hammered and his breath caught. Her gaze met his, cold and impassive, but she didn't stop in her tracks. His eyes travelled up and down her body on their own initiative. She wore a black tank top and grey trousers, while a stylish silver clip held her hair on one side.

"Hi," Barry said in a clipped voice, as soon as she came within earshot.

Caitlin turned her side to him and pressed her body against the counter, completely ignoring him.

"Give me a jean tonic, Cisco. With extra ice."

"Right away, m'am," he replied and instantly pulled a bottle.

Barry had never wanted the earth to swallow him as much as he wanted it at that moment. Her direct indifference was like an icicle cutting through his chest. He leaned on the bar, scraffing the surface with his finger. He struggled to find a creative way to start speaking. The seconds passed, and the silence took giant dimensions, and Cisco slipped the drink toward Caitlin.

"Hey, listen," Barry started, pivoting. Caitlin picked up the glass and took a sip. "Yesterday night-"

She whirled. Barry only caught a glimpse of her staggering glare before she tossed her drink right into his face.

He closed his eyes and pressed his lips. When he looked again, she was gone. Cisco stared at him with shock written all over his face, before he raised his eyebrows and returned to his work.

Barry wiped the water off his face with the back of his sleeve and turned around. The door of the club closed after a half hint of Caitlin. He ran after her.

The rain soaked him to the bone. It was the kind of rain that fell down in cascades, creating rivers down the road. Barry searched in the blurred view until he noticed a grey-coated figure heading to the parking lot, holding a black umbrella.

"Caitlin!" he shouted.

She didn't slow her pace.

He started running. He thought he would probably catch a cold later, but he ran regardless. He only wished he could run faster.

He stopped her just as she was about to enter her car, gently pulling her shoulder. Caitlin shook his hand off and pierced him with her eyes.

Water spilled down his face and lips. Her umbrella looked particularly appealing to him as cold had started to set in his bones, but something told him she wouldn't exactly welcome him under it.

"Caitlin, listen please," he begged her. "Yesterday-"

"Yesterday what, Barry?" she cut him off. "You took advantage of my emotional state to have a laugh with your friends? You used me to boost your stupid ego? You insisted on getting me drunk so you could then exploit me further?"

"No-NO! Please, I swear I only insisted on getting drunk, because we both needed it. I never intended to take it any further than that," he promised.

She frowned. "You don't have the slightest clue about what I need," she said through gritted teeth. "What I need is for you to get out of my sight. I have enough troubles in my life as it is. I don't need you to make fun of it," she spat, pain and anger painted all over her eyes. Barry's heart sank as she opened the door of her car.

He stood alone in the shower as her headlights shone in the dusk. He watched them fade away.

Lightning split the sky. Suddenly he wished it would strike him.

* * *

 **A/N** : Thank you so much for the sweet response! I'm incredibly moved by the warm welcoming I've received since the two stories I've posted. I hope I can keep your interest up ^^

The song lyrics '5,4,3,2,1…' are from 'Murder Song' by Aurora.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 – Making Amends

His feet soaked the wooden board as he trod toward the bar. Heads raised and eyes soared at his direction, but he didn't pay them mind. He climbed on a tall stool and placed his elbows on top of the counter. The occasional drip-drop came from his wet clothes. He buried his face in his palms and rubbed his temples in one movement, then folded his arms. There was a stack of menus on his right hand. He grabbed one to read.

A shadow darkened the surface of the counter. Barry frowned as he read the catalog.

"Pizza Cheeseburger? You guys actually serve that?" he asked, with half enthusiasm and half disbelief, drawing his gaze upwards.

Cisco's brows were pulled downwards in a sullen expression. The light wavered in Barry's eyes, but he kept his cool demeanor. He summoned some hope that he could convince this man into some friendly chit-chat.

The bartender rolled his eyes. "No, we just have it on the menu to keep people intrigued," he answered in a leveled tone. Barry squinted, confusion washing his features. Then, as Cisco's face remained unchanged, he realized he was being sarcastic.

"Oh," he said and lowered his eyes.

 _Maybe not._

"Hey man, listen," Cisco started. "If you expect some man-bonding between us"—he waved his hand in the air—"over how difficult women are... Forget it, cause it ain't happening. Caitlin is like a sister to me and she doesn't deserve people treating her like you did. Now I'm gonna let you stay here until you dry up, but after that I never want to see you again, clear?" He held his gaze firmly.

Barry nodded.

Cisco patted him on the shoulder. A little too hard. "Glad we understand each other," he said and retreated to the kitchen.

Barry sighed and looked toward the clock on the wall beside the door. It was darkening outside. So much for an attempt at chit-chat. He hunched his shoulders and tucked his face inwards.

A thud came on the counter. Barry raised his gaze, bracing himself for a second round of glares.

Harry pushed a glass toward him and unscrewed a bottle of whiskey, a stoic expression written over his face.

"Bad day?" he asked.

Barry stared between him and the glass, his expression overcoming confusion.

"Uh… Kind off," he said finally.

"Here, this will help." He filled his glass and nudged his chin. Barry cast a wary glance at the beverage.

"Drink," Harry encouraged. "It's not poisoned."

Barry made a short huff with his nose and accepted the drink.

"Thanks," he said. As he swallowed the liquid, he considered Harry and remembered Jesse from last night.

"Hey, what's the issue between you and your daughter?" he asked.

Harry tilted his head in question.

"I mean," Barry clarified, "she can't be that mad that you just want to protect her. My step-dad, detective Joe West, was always over-protective of his daughter, and even though it annoys her sometimes, she still loves him dearly."

Harry nodded, then held his gaze. He was silent for a moment, as if he was considering his answer. Barry tensed a little. "I killed a man once, trying to protect her," Harry said.

"You- Oh." Barry strained to contain his reaction. "So it was self-defense," he reasoned.

Harry squinted. "Not exactly. I mean, it was at first, but I guess, anger consumed me." He shrugged.

Barry shifted his weight uncomfortably. Then he realized and sighed. "Hey, it's okay, you don't have to intimidate me. I only see Jesse as a friend," he reassured him with a smile.

Harry knit his eyebrows. "I didn't think otherwise," he said.

Barry's laugh faded. Harry tilted his head.

"Are you interested in my daughter?" Harry enquired, a hint of threat in his tone.

"No!" Barry said.

Harry gave him a fake smile. "Good."

Barry focused on his drink and widened his eyes.

"But you are her friend, right?" Harry said suddenly.

Barry looked up, not sure how to answer. "Yyess...?"

Harry nodded to himself, then leaned on the counter and waved at him to come closer. Barry proceeded with caution.

"How about we make a deal?" he asked him. "You'll help me fix things with Jesse, and I'll do the same for you with Caitlin and Cisco. Deal?"

Barry narrowed his eyes, trying to second-guess his intentions.

"You want me to talk to your daughter about you?" Barry asked, confused.

"Yes."

Barry searched the man's blue eyes. There was a hint of desperation shimmering underneath his gaze. It must have been true suffering for him to be at odds with his daughter.

Barry nodded and was about to seal the agreement with a hand shake, but Cisco returned right that moment. His eyebrows curled up in protest as he considered the two of them. He glared at Harry.

"Why did you serve him? He's not welcome here," he complained.

"Last time I checked I owned this place," Harry defended.

"Oh yeah? Last time I checked you needed me to run this place." The two argued face to face.

"I just offered him a drink! Can't you see his condition?"

Barry inspected himself.

"So what? I don't see you serving homeless people," Cisco complained.

"He's not... homeless."

"Guys, I'm right here," Barry muttered.

They both turned their heads. "Shut up!"

Barry raised his palm and lifted his drink.

"Nah uh uh, no drink for you," Cisco said. Barry stopped his movement in midair, uncertain if the bartender was being serious. Cisco waved his palm. "Now hand that glass over," he pressed.

Barry gave it to him and Cisco started educating him on how his actions were doomed from the start, because the same thing had happened in a movie? Barry stopped listening after a point, because Harry behind was signing at him with mouth and hands. Barry read something like:

 _Get outta here…_

But Harry wasn't the type of man to slur his speech and he held his fist in front of his mouth, instead of pointing to the door. Barry tried again.

 _Care... okay_

What?

Harry pointed at his fist. It looked as if he was holding a microphone.

Oh. _Karaoke._

Harry rolled his finger forward and then pointed it downwards. _Tomorrow. Here._

"—Hey, hey, hey! I'm talking to you. Where are you looking at?" Cisco demanded his attention. He followed Barry's gaze behind his back. Harry scurried to fix his features, but it was too late. Cisco placed his fists at either side of his waist and shook his head.

"How mature," he said. He faced Barry. "You. Out."

Barry slid off his seat and left some dollars on the counter. He hovered there for a while, searching for something to say. But nothing sounded right. In the end, he just left.

Luckily, the storm had abated, though he hadn't completely dried up.

Karaoke, he thought, as he roamed the streets.

Did Harry actually suggest he should sing?

* * *

 _The next morning_

The phone in Cisco's apartment chimed. He groaned and crushed the pillow onto his head. The call went to voice mail.

 _Hey Cisco, it's Caitlin. I need a huge favor. I am going to head out of Central City this evening. I know how much you hate Hartley, but could you please ask him to replace me for tonight's event? It's really important, otherwise I swear I wouldn't ask._

Cisco pulled the pillow off his face and squinted at the ceiling, a high note of complaint escaping his throat.

* * *

 _Later that night_

The beep of the car echoed in the street. Caitlin threw the keys in her bag and pulled the sides of her coat closed to protect her from the evening chill. She looked between the other vehicles in the parking lot and her car which was parked at the side of the pavement. She shrugged. Finding parking space was a privilege these days. Her eyes fixed on the restaurant across the lot and lingered there for a while. She took a fortifying breath and started pacing. The clack of her heels filled the ambience.

The furrow between her brows deepened as she reached the entrance. God, why was she acting as if she was preparing for the SAT examinations? She was only meeting up with her mother. (After years of no see.) If anyone should be anxious, that was Carla Tannhauser. Not her.

She fixed her jaw, installing her guard, and pushed the door inside. The restaurant was dressed in elegancy, from the golden chandeliers to the staff's formal attires. A hostess approached her as soon as she entered.

"Hi, there's a reservation on the name Tannhauser?" Caitlin said.

The woman's eyes brightened. "Doctor Tannhauser-yes. This way, ma'am. May I have your coat?"

Caitlin handed over her coat, trying not to roll her eyes at her mother's recognizability. Her gaze drifted as she followed the woman to their table. The majority of the customers were high-class members of society—doctors, college professors and politicians. She cringed at the formality of it all. She could see Carla choosing this place. It was practically her signature. Cold and distant.

Carla wasn't there yet. Caitlin settled at her table-a richly lit place near the window—and ordered a cup of tea. As the waiter walked away, she lifted her sleeve slightly and checked her watch. 8:01 pm. A one-minute delay wasn't much of an incentive to worry, but Caitlin's stomach folded in a knot nonetheless.

Half an hour later she was staring at an empty cup and an equally empty seat. She twirled the tea spoon in her fingers, as she shifted her gaze outside the window. A headache had started crawling up her skull. Emotions boiled inside her, as if in a chemical reaction.

 _Everything is going to be okay. You will be fine._

The words came uninvited. She recalled the strength with which they were uttered; green eyes pouring hope into her empty soul. Hope she'd held on to for a while, until it had shattered. Just as fast as it had appeared. She didn't know how this memory was relevant right now, but somehow it brought the chemical reaction to a peak.

The tea spoon landed on the saucer with a silverware rattle.

…

She walked out of the restaurant, straining to keep her calm. In fact, she was putting such effort into it that she only noticed the empty spot where her car used to be when she stepped on it. She twirled, scouring the territory with her eyes, until her gaze fell on a note stuck on the side of the pavement. It had a bill and a number written over it.

 _Oh no._

* * *

"What do you mean she's not coming?" Harry fretted, lifting the barrier to get behind the counter.

"I mean she's not coming, Harry, what other interpretation could you make from my words?" Cisco answered.

"But what about-?"

Cisco eased his palm down. "Relax, I have it all covered. Hartley is taking on the mantle."

"Hart—" Harry closed his eyes and huffed through his nose. "And I'm hearing of this now because…?" he demanded.

Cisco gave him a questioning look. "Since when do you want me to report to you? I thought it was _boring_ and that you _trusted my judgement_?" he reminded him.

"That—" Breath. "You, I trust. Hartley? Not."

As if synchronized, Hartley barged through the door, a smug expression on his face. He flopped his backpack on the counter and grinned at Cisco.

"So, looks like you need me after all."

Cisco made a mocking expression.

Harry pressed his lips in annoyance, then tried to cover it with a fake smile. He whirled on his feet and rolled his eyes. He needed to inform Barry, he thought as he retreated to the kitchen. As soon as he was out of sight he pulled out his phone and started dialing.

A male voice answered at the first ring. "CCPD, what's your emergency?"

"Hi, could I speak to detective Joe West, please?"

Cisco appeared at the threshold, waving his hand, while holding a cell phone on the other.

"Uhh, actually, wait a moment, please," Harry asked and covered his phone with his palm.

"What?" he asked Cisco.

"I have good news and bad news," Cisco said reluctantly.

"I'm listening."

"Caitlin's decided to come after all..."

"And the bad news?"

Cisco hesitated. "Her car got confiscated."

Harry closed his eyes and exhaled. When he opened them, a new idea had crawled up his mind.

"Tell her I'm sending a friend to pick her up."

* * *

Caitlin strolled up and down the street until she decided to sit on a bench. Most of the parking lot had emptied out now. She buried her hands in the pockets of her coat and curled further into the shadows. As the reality of her situation threatened to sink in, she tried to distract herself with mathematics.

She was twenty miles far from the city. That was half an hour by car or twenty minutes on a motorcycle. Adding the ten-minute road trip to Starball, she would be at her destination in one hour at best. That was, if Harry's friend was fast enough.

She huffed, no longer able to withhold the chaos building in her chest. First that guy at the bar, then her mother, now the car. And on top of all, Ronnie's absence. She sealed her lips over a cry that almost escaped. She was a doctor, she reminded herself. She could easily detach herself from emotion for the sake of being practical. And whoever came to get her wouldn't find a damsel in distress. They would find a reasonable woman who just had a misfortune.

She waited and waited, turning her head each time she heard the distant engine of a car.

Fifteen minutes later a motorcycle whirred and stopped right in front of her. She bounced on her feet and eyed the driver with caution. He was wearing a helmet-a scarlet helmet with the insignia of a lightning bolt on its side. Weird, she thought.

"Caitlin Snow?" asked a muffled voice. There was a familiar ring to it, but she couldn't place it.

She took a moment to recover from her shock. Maybe it was the exhaustion of the day, maybe the waiting had made her desperate of a home, but there was something utterly comforting in the sight of the motorcyclist and his peculiar helmet. Magical, almost. She had promised she wouldn't allow herself to feel like a helpless woman, but already she was feeling as if she was being saved.

She nodded slowly.

"Right. Hop on," he nudged his head toward the seat behind him, then bent a little and took another helmet from between his feet. He handed it to her.

She took it reluctantly. It was a deep midnight blue color. She tucked her hair behind her ears and passed the helmet on her head. She was still bewildered as she pressed a shaky hand on the stranger's shoulder and mounted behind him. His scent flooded her nostrils and her pulse accelerated. It was as if he emitted a sort of whimsical energy that captivated her. Chemistry, that was the word, she thought. Her reaction confused her. Then she reasoned that it was probably the adrenaline of the forthcoming ride.

"Are you set?" the man asked.

She carefully passed her arms around his waist and wound her fingers together, avoiding connection between their bodies. She felt him stiffen at her touch.

"Yes," she answered steadily.

She wondered whether she should hold on his shoulders instead, but right then he kicked the engine into start.

"Hold on tight!" he shouted.

And then she was flying, the wind blowing into her hair. She gripped his waist tighter and she felt him stiffen a little more. Everything around her turned into a blur. The adrenaline washed all the pain away. And in that moment, as she bathed into the cold air, she was happy. She closed her eyes and smiled with relief.

The ride was over before she knew it. In the end it had only taken her half an hour. She climbed off the motorcycle, cheeks flushed and hair messed up. She stared at her driver curiously, as she returned the helmet.

"Thank you," she breathed.

"No problem," he answered. He kicked the pedal again and rode off, sending a breeze on her face.

She realized he'd never told her his name.

So mysterious.

* * *

"It looks we're not going to need you after all, Hartley," Cisco said with a self-satisfied smile.

Hartley caught the drum sticks he was juggling in the air and looked at Cisco, then at Caitlin. He nodded to himself, his lips twisting in loathing.

"You guys like playing with me, don't you?" he said.

"I'm sorry, Hartley," Caitlin apologized. "I didn't mean to put you in trouble."

Hartley waved his head from side to side, then held her gaze. "Guess what. I don't believe you," he spat and turned his back. He gathered his things from the booth and walked out of sight.

Caitlin gave Cisco a guilty look.

"Hey, don't worry about him. He's a dick anyway," Cisco comforted her.

She nodded.

"Let the karaoke party begin, baby!" Cisco cheered.

Caitlin smiled and took her position at the booth.

* * *

The crowd cheered and cackled as the last singer voiced the ending lyrics of 'Wrecking Ball'. Caitlin had covered her eyes, experiencing second-hand embarrassment. It was past midnight, which meant she could finally go home. She heaved a sigh of relief and started turning off the sound system.

Harry emerged from the pile of crowds, hurrying toward her. Caitlin froze and waited for him to approach.

"We have another request!" he shouted in her ear.

Caitlin sighed, but listened to the name of the song anyway. She searched through a pile of discs, until she found the right one. As the first calm, melodic notes filled the air, the crowd hushed and a lean guy hopped on the stage. He was wearing a loose shirt and jeans... A red leather band was wound around the middle of his head. Caitlin perked an eyebrow, then froze as she noticed the insignia on the side. A lightning bolt. And it wasn't actually a band, it was a mask.

The boy held the microphone with both his hands and hunched over his shoulders. He didn't read the screen. Instead, as his voice touched the first lyrics, his gaze flew over the crowd and landed directly on hers. Her breath caught. She swore she almost heard her heart shudder to a stop. Because she recognized those eyes. She recognized them, but she couldn't react to them, because his voice enchanted her. And the lyrics... the lyrics were...

 _Come up to meet you, tell you I'm sorry_

 _You don't know how lovely you are_

 _I had to find you_

 _Tell you I need you_

 _Tell you I set you apart_

 _Tell me your secrets_

 _And ask me your questions_

 _Oh, let's go back to the start_

 _Running_ _in circles_

 _Coming up tails_

 _Heads on a science apart_

 _Nobody said it was easy_

 _It's such a shame for us to part_

 _Nobody said it was easy_

 _No one ever said it would be this hard_

 _Oh, take me back to the start_

 _Ohhhh_

Caitlin let the music fade off, so his voice only remained. Bare and lonely. He squeezed his eyes shut.

 _Ohhhhh..._

There was quiet from the crowd for a while. Then, slowly, everyone erupted in applause and whistles. The boy opened his eyes and slid off his mask, always staring at her. But she already knew who he was.

 _The mysterious motorcyclist._

 _Barry Allen._

* * *

 **A/N:** Again, I am overwhelmed by your sweet comments. Thank you!

The song Barry sang is the 'The Scientist' by Coldplay. It was difficult to find the right song for this, because all apology songs are about intimate lovers (omg). Anyway, I hope you found it as fitting as I did! (Also, I hope you actually imagined Barry and not Sebastian Smythe singing it.)


End file.
